Take a Step Back - Part 2: Where Do We Start? (Patreon)

Part 2 - Where Do We Start?

I leant back in the chair and breathed out. What did I say? It’s not like opening up to a stranger is easy at the best of times, let alone doing it in the context of bearing it out for your own mental health.

“So er… I guess I should just say how I feel?”

“Go ahead, I’ll ask any questions after you’ve finished. I won’t interrupt you at any stage. Take whatever time you need” Christine's voice was practiced, had it not had the motherly lilt to it I would have said it was robotic.

“I… I guess I’m doing this because my room-mate says I’m depressed? Like, he pointed out I don’t really have any energy for anything? I don’t have a job and I’m just staying here until I do. I’m not sure I’m, like, actually depressed though.”

The elephant had started writing on her clipboard, making notes as I gave my explanation.

“I don’t feel tired really, I don’t struggle to get out of bed. I guess I could eat better…” I stopped for a second and started to think. What more could I even say?

“So, you’re doing this for your room-mate?”

I went to answer and found myself instantly feeling guilt, stopping the response in my throat. Shit, one question in and she was breaking down the entire point of the session.

“Yeah… yeah I guess I am” I sighed. “Sounds kinda fucked up when you put it like… I mean it sounds a bit, well… like I’m being an ass if you put it that way”

“Not at all” she responded calmly “Many people find they only start coming to sessions after friends have said it would help them. Not all really wanted to.”

“So… I mean that’s where I’m at right now. Not sure what to add…”

“Well” she put her clipboard to one side, leaning forward on the sofa and smiling again “How about you tell me what you want. Your room-mate clearly wants you to feel better but what would make you happier?”

I sat there for a brief moment and stared into space. The question should be easy right? I knew exactly what I wanted.

“A job. Like, getting some cash in the bank so I can buy stuff, not be a burden on Paul…” I stopped “Well… not a burden. But like, he’s not family, I shouldn’t just be here without contributing right?”

Christine looked thoughtful for a second, letting some time pass. She really was giving me plenty of time to add to anything.

“So you don’t want to feel as though you’re reliant on Paul?”

I nodded “Pretty much”

“Even if he doesn’t seem to care that much if you are?”

I felt a little twinge of annoyance at that question “I mean, he clearly cares. He wouldn’t have asked me to do this otherwise.”

Christine leant back again “So, what you want is to do what Paul wants you to do, so you don’t have to worry about what Paul wants you to do anymore?”

“What?” I tried to break down the question in my head.

“Basically, if Paul gets what he wants, your problems are solved right?”

“I mean… I guess yeah. Like, we both agree I need a job” I could feel myself getting hot, like I was being interrogated.

Christine picked her clipboard back up and took some time to write on it. My head was already starting to spin around on itself, going over my answers again and again.

I remember wanting to say something, but honestly can’t remember if I did. Regardless, this didn’t feel like a relaxing session. It felt like someone was trying to reach into my brain and pick at things.

“Would you like another drink? It’s ok if you’re nervous” Christine's voice broke through the brain fog.

I looked down, at some point I’d emptied my glass.

“No, I’m good. Just…” I tailed off, unsure as to what to say without sounding accusatory.

Christine put her board back down again and put both her hands in front of her, leaning forward “Are you sure you’re alright? I apologise if I jumped into things a little too quickly.”

“No, no it’s fine” I cleared my throat “Just, I haven’t really thought about this much.”

She nodded, her trunk bouncing a little “Well, that’s part of why I’m here. You’re trying to work things out, my job is to help with that. If you’ve not thought about it much, I’m here to ask the questions that help you think about it”

I nodded and shifted in the chair again “Yeah, I guess so.”

At first the session was quite calm. I can’t really remember much of the start, if I’m honest. The first half felt like it was entirely focussed on the administrative stuff, going over my forms. In hindsight I feel like maybe Christine didn’t want to push too hard too fast on the point we’d started on. I remember going through the questions on the form, confirming that all the information was correct, that I wasn’t suicidal, that I wasn’t going to do anything that required some kind of urgent intervention. I kept trying to take small sips from my empty glass of orange juice, my mind going onto other subjects all the way through and not really focussing on the questions being asked.  Despite this, Christine didn’t seem at all perturbed by my lack of enthusiasm. She kept smiling, going down the list in her hand and making sure all the information was correct. It wasn’t until she put it down and dramatically wiped her brow that she came out of the script.

“So, what do you do in your spare time?”

“Huh?”

“Your hobbies, your ways of relaxing, things that take up time that aren’t chores or work” she used air quotes around those for emphasis but also rolled her eyes as though she didn’t like the terms much.

“Well, I guess I like watching sports from time to time. I watch football when it’s on with Paul and we’ve always both been fans”

The elephant began taking notes again, listening intently.

“I don’t really do that much other than read the news and play video games. Not really interested in much else”

“Would you say you’re looking for a new hobby?”

I shook my head “No, not really. It’s not like I’m desperate to fill my spare time with something else.”

She nodded and took down more notes “Well, other than a job. Do you have any idea what kind of job you’d like to get?”

I shrugged “Not specifically, I’ve been applying for entry level office jobs and for temp agencies. I just want to get off the ground, you know?”

“Heh, yeah I understand, was there myself… twenty years ago” she laughed “Feels like yesterday honestly”

I smiled back, turning the glass over in my hands “Well, how’d you get into counselling then? Can’t have been your first option?”

Christine shrugged back, clearly deliberately copying my actions “I just wanted to get off the ground” she winked “Was feeling a little too attached to it, honestly.”

“Heh,” I chuckled. “I mean, I guess I’d like to work in journalism or something. Write some articles and get myself a job at a newspaper or news agency.”

“Oh? Do you have qualifications in that area?”

“Yeah, I got an English degree. Me and thousands of other desperate writers”

She nodded, “You’re certainly not the first person I’ve spoken to who feels that way.” she made a few more notes “Have you written anything in your spare time? Something on the news strike you as something you’d want to research or dig into?”

I shook my head “Not really. Inspiration hasn’t really been something I’ve had since I left university. Even then I was running out of patience for it”

Her eyebrows raised “For university? Would you like to elaborate?”

“I just…” I tailed off again. University was not something I’d actually enjoyed much day to day. Deadlines were always looming and the parties and social requirements of being a student were not that easy to balance.

“I guess I just didn’t want to be there anymore.”

She nodded “Well, you’re not now” she said matter of factly “No deadlines or parties right?”

The feeling of her picking at my mind returned, the thoughts of that brief moment apparently more obvious than I’d imagined “Yeah, right”

“Do you think you’ve got too many choices about what to do or too few?”

I paused, looking back at the glass again “I mean… I guess too few? Like, I keep looking for jobs but none of them really appeal”

Christine leant forward a little more on the sofa “So, you want to find a job to get off the ground, but you’re also looking for a job that appeals to you?”

“Yeah, like I don’t want just any job that comes up you know? I don’t want to work in fast food”

She smiled “Well, that seems like a bit of a contradiction right? You want to get a job, but you feel like you can’t find the right job. But you also feel like you’re running out of patience for doing work that you liked at university?”

I went to respond but found my words flipping over in my throat.

“I… guess?”

Christine was now taking down more notes while I tried to think of something more substantial to say. Sure, I wanted something better than just a crappy minimum wage job, but…

“I’m going to ask you a question again, and I want you to answer as quickly as you can, ok?”

I nodded

“What do you want?”

I felt my hand grasp tightly to the glass as my mouth opened as quickly as it could.

“To be happy”

There was silence. Complete silence in the room as me and the elephant locked eyes. I think, at that moment, I was fully aware of what was happening, why it was happening. A headache started to form in the front of my skull, I could feel myself breathing slowly, methodically. Christine's smile was the only thing I could see, tunnel vision setting in as if to stop me from suddenly trying to escape. Why on earth had that come to mind so quickly? Why was that the response I’d wanted to give?

I think I wanted to clarify at that moment, get my mouth to open to say something but nothing would come. I’d said it, there wasn’t really a way to take it back and I knew it. I just forced myself to look down at the empty glass in my hand as Christine started to move on the couch.

“I think Paul is a very observant friend,” she commented “You’re not happy?”

I slowly nodded. I didn’t know how long the session had been going for, but I wanted it to end at that moment. I looked down at my watch.

“We’ve actually overrun Liam” she motioned to her own watch, noticing my curiosity “But I’m glad we did. I think next time we have something to talk about”

I nodded again, unable to get words out. My thoughts were spinning wildly, trying to work out why I’d said that so fast.

Christine was packing up, putting away her notes. I could feel myself wanting to ask for more time, but I resisted.

“Thank you” was all I could manage to say.

She looked back at me as she picked up her bag “That’s quite alright, same time next week work for you?”

I nodded “Yeah, yeah it should work”

I walked out the room with her, my mind returning the foggy mess it had been in half-way through the session. There wasn’t a single thought that had any clarity in that moment, just a distinct feeling of nausea mixed with worry that was making my stomach turn over and over. Each step I took towards the doorway felt like it was heavy and forced, like I was pulling myself towards a cliff edge.

As Christine opened the door to leave, she looked back towards me. Her face went from a smile to look of concern, dropping noticeably under her trunk.

“Are you alright Liam?”

I looked back into her eyes, tunnel vision setting in again almost immediately, giving me a focus that gave me some level of confidence.

“Yeah… Yeah I’m fine. Thank you again”

She smiled and shuffled out of the door, leaning down to get through the door frame and heading to her car. Goodbyes were exchanged and I watched her leave, closing the door as I walked back towards the kitchen. I still had the glass in my hand, long drained of its contents. I headed to the fridge and grabbed the orange juice cartoon. I was shaking. My grasp on the plastic was weak, the pour noticeably inaccurate as the liquid splashed around the counter. I cursed under my breath, taking a swing from what had successfully made it into the glass and sitting down on a nearby chair.

I don’t know exactly how much time passed when I just sat there with my thoughts. What had I expected? For the first session of counselling to just be a chill chat? Of course this was going to happen right?

I felt stupid, annoyed at myself for so easily saying what I had to a complete stranger. I drained the glass and got up to get another drink, just as I heard the front door open and someone walk into the kitchen.

“Hey man” Paul took off his suit jacket and hung it over the chair opposite me “How did…” he stopped, looking at how I was pouring my drink “Whoa dude, slow down you’re spilling it everywhere”

“Huh?” I looked over to him, the tiger quickly walking over to me and grabbing some kitchen towels to try to clean up the mess I’d made of the counter “Shit, sorry.”

Paul looked at me as he quickly swept up the liquid, throwing the paper into the bin “You alright? You look like did after too many drinks at Uni”

I guffawed “Nah, I’m… I’m fine”

He raised an eyebrow, grabbing a drink of his own from the fridge “How did the counselling session go?”

I shook my head. I hadn’t thought about what to tell Paul even amongst all of the thoughts that had been swimming through it.

“Dunno really. The hour went by pretty fast. Didn’t really say much in it”

He nodded “Well, you know you don’t have to tell me anything. Anything you say there is between you and them. I’ve been there and done that”

I shrugged “Yeah you said before” I chuckled, putting up air quotes “It really helped me, so I think it should help you” I repeated from memory “Right?”

He just shrugged back “Well, yeah. Seriously man, I had a tough time with my parents before I went to Uni and my counsellor really helped.”

I sighed, a flicker of a thought giving me a chance to change the subject “Oh! A parcel came for you today. It was pretty big and the counsellor helped me get it indoors”

The tiger straightened up a little in his chair, a noticeable change in his demeanour coming over him. “Oh? Did they say who it was from?”

I shook my head “Nope, just dropped it off. It’s in the lounge right now”

He got up out of his chair, clearly wanting to deal with this new information “Cool, I’ll go take that upstairs to my room. You’re cooking tonight right?”

I nodded “Need a hand with it, it was quite a big…”

“Nah I’ll get it, you focus on getting dinner sorted. Don’t spill anything again!”

He left me in the kitchen before I could respond. I was glad, getting out of that discussion was something I’d desperately wanted. I cooked a fry up that night, digging into something properly fattening was preferable to a light salad after what I’d endured and I think Paul had clearly wanted the same. The rest of the evening passed by uneventfully, I headed up to my room and played some games and just vegged out.

Paul spent the rest of the evening in his room too. I thought about whether to thank him or not for recommending the counselling, or whether or not to ask to cancel the whole thing. He’d seemed a bit distant that whole evening, avoiding more conversation when I tried to start it at the dinner table and generally seeming unfocussed. I put it down to work stress, something playing on his mind today that would likely be resolved tomorrow and focussed on my own thoughts.

Once I was in bed, I remember looking up at the ceiling with my headache getting worse as my thoughts turned to what to say next week. The duvet must have been kicked off a dozen times, adding to the annoyance of trying unsuccessfully to sleep. When I did sleep it was disturbed by Paul heading to the bathroom at three am.

At least I had nothing to get up for tomorrow. But for the first time in months that felt wrong.